


I'll be there for you (cause you're there for me too)

by TheFifthRunner



Series: I'll Be There For You 'verse [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Big Brother!Feels, Connor Toews, Drabbles, Future Fic, Implied Mpreg, Kid Fic, M/M, Michelle Toews, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Snapshots, Stanley Toews, family life
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-24
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-03-14 22:30:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3427895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFifthRunner/pseuds/TheFifthRunner
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snapshots of the Kane-Toews household in interviews and slices</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title from I'll Be There For You by The Rembrandts (from Friends)
> 
> So first fic ever! If you're curious about the origin of the kids, it's up to you guys. I wanted to leave it open to interpretation since some of you guys are squicky with mpreg.

**I. “Does your brother snore?” - NHL Blackhawks: Getting To Know Who Your Rookies**

 

Connor couldn’t stop the grin from taking over his face; did his brother snore? Oh boy, he was going to enjoy this question.

 

The interviewer noticed his expression and raised an eyebrow, “This is gonna be good, isn’t it?”

 

Glaring at his brother, Stanley shook his head, “Conn and I used to share a room growing up and the only time he snored was when he had colds when he was six. It was the _only_ time he ever snored.”

 

Connor nodded, “Yup! It’s true, one and only time. My brother on the other hand snores like freight train. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve woken up and thought that his snoring was some sort of crazy construction project!”

 

Stanley immediately turns red, “Well, that one time of yours makes up for my nightly snoring!”

 

**II. “Is it true you learned how to skate before walking?” - NHL Blackhawks: Rookie Up**

 

“Well,” Connor began, “sort of?” He scratched the back of his head and tried to look at his interviewer properly.

 

“My dads would always bring me with them to their practice and Stan would be with his little league team. I was sitting in the stands with my baby sitter and I crawled into the rink when she wasn’t looking. Luckily, my uncle Sharpie saw me and called my parents from where they were skating with the guys. They rushed over in time to see me try to pull myself up on the ice. My babysitter was panicking cause, well, I was over there, and she was on the other side.

 

When I was standing, grandpa Q had someone filming it for BHTV and my dad was trying to get me to go to him. I didn’t know how to walk but I tried doing this sort of shimmy thing -”

 

“Like a baby Kaner shuffle?”

 

“- yeah! But like, forward and I was pushing one foot in front of the other and bam! I was skating towards my dad.” Connor smiled like a helpless little puppy and the interviewer threw his head back and laughed,

 

“I guess you were really meant to be here, in hockey, huh?”

“Well, my brother and I were almost born at the rink.”

 

**III. “What’s your favourite position?” NHL Blackhawks: Rookie Up**

 

“My what? Oh, uh right wing.” Connor tried backing away from the leering interviewer. The man waggled his eyebrows at the stunned hockey player. “All of this is off the record by the way. I mean, my boss would kill me but, come on, I have to try.”

 

Connor fidgeted in his seat and turned about fifty shades of red,

 

“Sorry, I-I um, I can’t answer _that_.”

 

**IV. “Big Brother” Memories of Connor Toews**

 

“Conn? The dads are looking for you, where are you little bro?” Stanley entered their bedroom, a reflection of the contrast between brothers. Connor’s normally clean side was a mess to put it politely. His clothes were strewn around the floor and his math book was on the floor, pages askew from when he had thrown it. His brother was a lump on his bed, hidden beneath his comforter. Their parents used to worry that Connor would accidentally smother himself but he’s eighteen and graduating in a few months; he knew how to deal with it.

 

“Conn? There’s a guy downstairs looking for you.” He approached the shivering lump on the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong? Is it that guy? Is he bullying you? Do you need me to punch him?” he asks and the lump shakes its head? Body? “Who is he?”

 

The question seems to rouse his little brother and he pokes his head from underneath the covers. Connor mumbles something into a pillow he’s clutching tightly to his chest. “I can’t understand you if you don’t talk to me.” Stanley shakes his head, and sits on the bed next to his lump of a brother.

 

Connor turns his head toward his brother and winces when his brother flinches away from him. His eye had ugly blue bruising around it and his lip was split. Stanley stood up and moved towards the door.

“Don’t worry Connor, they’ll never bother you again.”

 

When Stanley got to the door ready to punch whoever was behind the door, he took a deep steadying breath. He opened it and was surprised to see Samson, Connor’s friend from the Mathletes. Stanley let the boy in and led him up to his brother; Samson was a good kid, not to mention pretty easy to pressure into telling him what happened.

 

Stanley was there the next time Connor got beat up. In fact, he was rushing to the gym to get something from his locker when he heard Connor’s voice. He was begging them to stop and was starting to whimper. Stanley could feel his rage stewing in his gut. No one hurt his little brother and got away with it. 

 

Connor was curled into a ball, boys from the football team kicking the shit out of him. Stanley started banging his hockey stick against the lockers and yelling for the coach to come out. The football team scattered and left a bloody mess of his younger brother. 

Stanley didn't say anything as he helped his brother into his car and stayed silent as he drove to the hospital. Connor was thankful that his brother wasn't asking him questions. 

He was there, and that was what counted. 

 

 


	2. Connor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter focuses on Connor and there will be follow-up chapters!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks guys for the support! Sorry I haven't posted recently cause midterms and stuff. I crey but here you go! There will be follow up chapters focusing on Stan and Michelle! Yeah I changed her name based on Michelle Kwan :D 
> 
> If you guys have any questions for the boys or for Michelle, post them in the comments! Thanks again!

**V. “Big Brother 2” Memories of Connor Toews**

 

Patrick and Jonathan were furious; they weren’t mad at Connor for getting beaten up nor at Stanley for taking charge of the situation but at the fact that Stanley didn’t deem it necessary to call them to the hospital. Connor was already in a mood because he wasn’t able to scratch his nose and that his pain medicine was wearing off. Without another word, he upped and went to his room to sleep.

 

Kaner was leaning against the door frame while Stanley and Jonny were shouting it out in the living room. He knew Connor was having trouble fitting into high school and they had gone over it again and again how elementary was different from high school and how he’d have to try to adjust. To be honest, Kaner was really proud of Stanley, sticking up for his brother and not going down the ‘too cool for you’ path he went on when he entered high school.

 

“Stan, for the last time, it’s not about bringing your brother to the hospital! It’s the fact that you didn’t call me or your dad!” Jonny yelled as he ran a hand through his hair. “It wasn’t necessary papa! I had the whole thing under control and you were in a game,” argued Stanley, arms crossed and defiant.

 

“That doesn’t matter. I would’ve gone to the hospital or at least called your dad!” Which was true, Jon would have gotten someone to cover coaching the Hawks’ practice today. That was one of the reasons why he had assistant coaches.

 

“Dad was busy with Michelle, she had skate today and I know you were drilling the guys because the last game was absolute crap and you always tell me that I have to be more responsible so I took some responsibility and took Conn to the hospital and everything’s fine!” Stanley huffed and look, he could handle some responsibility. He’s been taking care of Connor ever since they were little and even if on the outside, yeah, he was a bit of a slob, he was responsible. Really, he was.

 

Patrick decided it was time to intervene when both his son and husband were red in the face from yelling. It was sort of like he stepped into a TARDIS and saw a younger version of his husband (and yeah, he knew Doctor Who, it was Stan and Conn’s fault). Well, maybe if Jonny had been blonde and blue eyed, eh, he reckoned it was close enough.

 

“Hey, hey, you two, time out. Stanley, sit down, Jon, you too!” Pat called out and facing his son, “Stan, I know we’re busy but we always have time for you kids, alright? Yes, you are responsible, especially about Conn but you still gotta tell us about these sorts of things, buddy. Okay?”

 

Stanley hung his head but conceded, “Yeah, dad. Sorry,” and he went up to his and Connor’s room.

 

“Oh and Stan? Make sure there won’t be a next time.” Patrick said.

 

**VI. “Why isn’t he talking yet?” - Donna Kane, Connor at 3 years**

 

Donna absolutely loved her grandsons, blonde and blue eyed little boys who loved running around but were content to read a book on a rainy day. Stanley absolutely loved telling her all about his day on Skype and while most of it repeated, he was absolutely endearing. He was starting ‘big school’ soon and he was excited to tell her all about the fact that he was going to make all new friends when they moved to Chicago but he’d miss all his old friends in Winnipeg.

 

Connor on the other hand didn’t talk a lot, in fact, he usually said around four or five words during their daily Skype sessions. Most of the time, the toddler just looked beyond the laptop at Patrick or Jonny. He usually just said “Gram gram” which was what he called her and sometimes “Stan” or “Papa” and “Dada” but most of the time he just said random sounds. Donna wasn’t too worried, some babies developed at different rates but she wondered if her son was aware. She would call him about it the next time they had a Skype chat. Or perhaps when they were going to visit Buffalo next.

 

It was three weeks later when Donna remembered to ask Patrick about Connor’s babbling. They were going to spend his birthday in the Kane’s house with his aunties. She was in the kitchen baking a cake when her son and son-in-law poked their heads through the front door. “GAMMY!” An overenthusiastic Stanley yelled barreling into her legs, she scooped him up with practiced ease as he pressed a sticky kiss to her cheek. “Stanley!” Jonny admonished while balancing a baby bag, Connor’s gifts, and some plastic bags with ice cream. “Hey Donna,” he said and kissed her cheek as well, “Pat’s in the car with Conn, he’s been a little grumpy from the flight. Women kept trying to touch him and you know he doesn’t like strangers touching him.” Donna showed him where to put the presents and brought Stanley to his and Connor’s room in the house. Ever since the girls moved out, sans Jackie (who was looking for her own place), the Kanes had extra room which they converted into a guest bedroom and another room for their grandsons.

 

Patrick comes in looking a little harassed, whispering something to Connor trying to soothe the crying toddler. Nothing was making him content, once Jonny unloaded all the stuff, he reached out to carry Conn so Pat could greet his mother. “Where’s dad?” He asked as he rifled through Connor’s bag. “Your father just grabbed a few steaks for tonight and some beer, I think.” Donna said, turning back to her baking. “He’ll be back in a while,” she said as she poured the batter into a pan and shoved it into the oven.

 

Jonny started doing this bouncing walking combination which seemed to be helping. Patrick handed him a blanket which he draped over Conn’s head. Connor seemed to finally calm down and started babbling again. Jonny was replying to him and they seemed to understand each other.

 

Donna watched the two interact as Patrick sidled up to her and stole some frosting from a bowl. “Honey, I wanted to ask you about something,” she started, smacking Pat’s fingers away from her frosting bowl. “Yeah?” He responded, “What is it mom?”

 

“Connor, he, uh, doesn’t seem to be talking a lot for a three year old.” She began, worrying her bottom lip. “It’s just, now, I know kids develop at different rates, I mean you and Erica seemed determined to start talking as soon as you could open your mouths but Connor…”

 

Patrick smiled, “Mom, don’t worry. Conn’s just not used to speaking a lot of English,” he said as he picked up Stanley who had wandered back into the kitchen. “Jonny and I have been speaking to him in French and it was such a b-i-t-c-h to learn it but we wanted the kids to know another language.”

 

Donna looked at her son proudly, “That is a good idea,” and turning to her other grand baby, asked “Hey Stan, why don’t you help grandma pick out the fruits Connor would like.”

 

**VII. “What do you mean you were almost born at the rink?” - NHL Blackhawks: Rookie Up!**

 

To be fair, when he was pregnant with Stanley, his labour pains were more severe and had him practically crying when they started. It was the last period of the last playoffs game and damn it to hell if he was going to miss it. Patrick rubbed his back as he felt some Braxton Hicks contractions come and go. He wanted to stand up and cheer with the rest of the crowd as he watched Jonny score but then he’d have to sit back down and he knew that it would be a greater struggle.

 

So Kaner cheered with the crowd in his seat and fuck, was that contraction stronger than the last? How long ago was the last? Shit, there are three more minutes and the Hawks were tied with the Penguins. He felt pain rip through his stomach and okay, no he wasn’t imagining it. Shit, Patrick cannot go into labour right now. Abby Sharp looks at him worriedly and Pat feels her cool hand on his forehead. He breathes in deep as the contraction fades, damn the contractions are coming faster. Patrick blinks his baby blues at Abby and he feels his face contort in pain as another contraction comes in fast. Five minutes after the last one, five minutes is okay. Abby dials Sharpy’s phone and leaves a voice message and helps Patrick out of the stands which is a lot harder when the crowds are pressing against them as the energy runs higher with each passing second.

 

Patrick doesn’t remember much when Abby shepherds him to the Sharp’s car and whisks him off to the hospital but can’t stop thinking, ‘Fuck, it’s too soon. It’s way too soon.’

 

Jonny was riding the high of scoring the winning goal all the way back to the locker room when Sharpy taps his shoulder. “Jon, you got mail!” He yelled into his ecstatic captain’s ear. Patrick listened to the voice mail while Jon ran a quick shower.

 

“Patrick, other Patrick just went into labour. He’s early so we’re rushing him to the hospital. Tell Jonny! See you later, honey!”

 

“Congratulations! Omigod Patrick, so proud of you and the boys! I just saw Jon’s goal! See you at the hospital! They’re just settling Peeks into a room.”

 

Sharpy stared at his phone and yelled, “Jonny! Get your ass out here! It’s game time for Peeks!”

Jon never moved so fast in his life and nearly tripped on his shoes on the way out. He pulled on his dress shirt and slacks and was halfway out the door when Sharpy threw his dress shoes and jacket at him. “I’ll handle the interviews, but you owe me one Toews!”

 

They set him up with fluids and Kaner can’t stop thinking that it’s too goddamn early for his baby boy to meet them. Also, where the fuck is Jon?

 

Jonny finally pulled into the hospital parking space, Patrick’s hospital bag in the front seat and his shoes next to them. He’s halfway to the door when he realises that he still hasn’t put on his shoes. He runs back to the car and is almost to the reception and gropes around for Kaner’s hospital bag. Shit, he left it in the car; he goes back to the car (for the second damn time) and grabs the bag and locks the door.

 

He practically ran to the elevator and bounced until he got to Patrick’s room. He comes in all smiles and is greeted by his husband’s glare. Jonny tiptoes towards his irate husband and drops a kiss on his forehead. “Sorry I’m a little late but I did bring your bag.” He put his peace offering on a chair, “I hope you remembered to call our moms and Stan, babe.” Patrick said as he held Jonny’s hand in a vise grip and bore down on another contraction.

 

“Oh shit.”

  



	3. Stanley

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! A friend actually asked me why the kids were named the way they were so here's a quick run down:
> 
> Stanley James Toews (after the Stanley Cup and the James Norris Memorial trophy)  
> Connor Calder Toews (after the Conn Smythe and the Calder Memorial trophies)  
> Michelle Elizabeth Toews (after Michelle Kwan and Elizaveta Tuktamisheva, figure skaters)
> 
> This is unbeta'd and the French is atrocious, I know.

**VIII. “Why’s your accent like that?” - Stanley’s elementary classmate**

 

Stanley is really excited about moving to Chicago; sure he’s going to miss his friends in Clifton in Winnipeg but he gets to see his papa more often and (hopefully) watch more Hawks games. He was on his last year of his hockey camp’s Tips for Tots and about to enter his own Mite team.

 

He helped his dad pack for the trip cause he was busy packing Connor’s things cause Connor was still a baby and didn’t know how to pack. Stanley knew how to pack because it was just like packing for Chicago weekends and sleepovers at grandmere and gram gram’s houses. Well, except for the fact that all his clothes were in boxes as well as his books and his spare hockey gear because he still has practice later. Stan sent his toys earlier when papa took some of their family boxes with him to Chicago.

 

After hockey practice this afternoon, dad and papa were letting him have a moving/goodbye party with all his team mates and some of his classmates. They were going to have pizza and soda and ice cream. Stan didn’t really like soda cause there was this one time when all the bubbles tickled his nose and when he burped, cola came out his nose. It was gross and it hurt, he didn’t really like it after that. Besides, pizza was a treat because growing boys (like him!) needed good food so he could grow big and strong for hockey. He really wanted to play hockey like his dads.

 

Stanley watched his dad pack a snack bag for him to bring to his practice so he could share with his friends. He ran to his room and grabbed his ready to go hockey duffel beside his bed and plopped down beside his brother on the couch. Connor was watching some baby show and crawled onto his brother’s lap when he saw him sit down. Stan patted his brother’s head; his hair was so soft and it looked like he was bald but like him, Connor was just blonde. His baby brother lay down on his chest and shoved his fist into his mouth and started sucking it.

 

“Ew! Dad! Connor’s sucking on his fist again!” Stanley yelled in French, startling his brother a bit and making him give his big brother big watery eyes. “Shhh, sorry I scared ya, Conn,” Stanley whispered in a softer voice, “How about fist bump?” His baby brother fist bumped his drool covered fist with his older brother’s. Stanley tried to hold in his grimace and accepted Conn’s gross and sticky fist bump. Their dad just laughed when he saw Stanley’s grossed out face and attempt to scrub the skin off his knuckles on his shirt. He kissed Connor’s head and lifted him from Stanley’s lap and handed his big boy his snack pack.

“Go on to the car, papa’s going to bring you to the rink today.” His dad said while balancing Connor on his hip. Stanley’s tried doing that but Conn was too heavy for him. Stan yelled, “Bye Dad!” while running out the front door with his duffel in tow.

 

Papa always told him to eat his snacks in one hour intervals, when the small hand of the clock moves to the next number. Heavy snacks first then the lightest ones last, dad always labeled them so he wouldn’t get confused. Papa parked the car and opened the trunk to get Stan’s things as he finished his last snack.

 

“Don’t forget about the party later, okay papa?” Stanley called out from the locker room. His papa just laughed and said that he wouldn’t forget. After his papa left, practice was tiring but fun and now all he had to do was get ready for his party.

 

When he got home, he took a shower and threw on his favourite Blackhawks shirt and some jeans that his dad hadn’t packed yet. By the time he came out, his friends were already there and playing in the backyard. He didn’t waste anytime and started playing with them leaving his dad and papa inside to deal with the pizza.

 

The next day was moving day and after all the fun he had yesterday, Stanley was too tired to get up at the early time his dad said he had to be up. Luckily his papa could still carry him and brought him to his dad’s big yellow humming car where their luggage was. His papa buckled him into his booster seat and tucked his blanket in around him. Stanley knew that his papa was going to wake him up later when they got to the airport so he went back to sleep.

 

He didn’t wake up until they were halfway through the flight and Connor started crying. Stan jolted awake when he heard his little brother cry. He twisted around to see his dad quieting him probably because some old lady pinched his cheeks. Stan didn’t get why random old ladies thought it was okay to pinch his and his brother’s cheeks. His papa saw that he was awake and asked him if he wanted to look outside the window. He nodded and papa let him sit on his lap, he fell asleep while his papa hummed some French lullabies and rubbed his back.

 

When he woke up next, Stan was on the couch in their house in Chicago. His dad and papa said that he didn’t have school until Tuesday because of a holiday so he and Connor could skate in the rink in the backyard if they wanted to. Stanley helped his dad unpack all the stuff in his Chicago room - his new room, now. He already had some of his stuff from when they’d stay over on weekends so it wasn’t hard putting away all his Winnipeg stuff.

 

Then Tuesday came and suddenly, he was so nervous to step into his new school. “MSA is a good school, Stanley. It’s small so you can get to know all your classmates. You can ask them if they like hockey or what things they do like,” his dad said in French, “but don’t forget that they speak English here. Your English is good so I think you’ll be okay. If you don’t know any word, you can ask your teacher and she can help you. She was from Winnipeg too.” With that, Stanley felt a little bit more sure of himself and got out of the car with his dad and his papa and Connor (who was also going to school now).

 

“Why’s your accent like that?” Asked a boy who sat next to him in the introduction circle their teacher set up. “Je suis Canadien. Nous parlons tous comme celui d'où je viens.” Stanley replied and the boy just looked at him curiously. “My name’s Luke, what’s yours?” Stan smiled and replied, in English, “My name is Stanley. You can call me Stan. Do you like hockey?” When Luke nodded, Stan knew he found his best friend. Not only did Luke help him with his English, he also grabbed his hand and introduced him to everyone in the circle. It seemed like it was going to be a good year.

 

**IX. “How was summer break?” - Miss Ellie Lebarakov, 1st Grade Teacher**

 

One of the things Patrick liked about MSA aside from the small school size was that all the teachers knew the kids, like really knew them. After he briefed Ms. Woo about Connor’s sensitivity, he felt reassured that she could handle him. He also knew from Ms. Lebarakov that Stanley was doing great and making friends but that his English had improved by leaps and bounds thanks to his new friend.

 

He was really apprehensive about moving from Winnipeg to Chicago, transferring his kids to new schools, and making sure Connor wasn’t too freaked out by all the changes but it seemed like the universe was giving him a break for once. Stanley was making friends, Connor hadn’t had a meltdown and he and Jon got to see each other everyday (when the Hawks weren’t on the road). Life was pretty good.

 

“How was summer break?” Ms. Ellie asked the class, a few hands were raised immediately and she called on a student who shared that they went to Hawaii and she had lots of fun in the beach. Stan’s new friend Luke also shared, he said that he and his mom went to visit his grandma in Florida and that they all went to Disneyland. Another little girl shared that she visited Canada with her parents.

 

“Oh, speaking of Canada,” Ms. Ellie began, “We have a new student who came from there. He came from Winnipeg. So Stanley, what did you do last summer?”

 

Stanley’s ears turned a bit red when he was called but answered, “Je ai joué au hockey avec mon équipe et nous avons gagné le-” “Wait, Stanley, can you say that again in English? Not all of us can understand French.” Ms. Ellie said gently and waved her hand so Stan could start again. “I played hockey with my uh, team mates? And we um, winned? Against the team from l’autre rink.” Stanley said. Ms. Ellie smiled and replied, “Very good! So your team won against another team! Congratulations!” She corrected and translated.

 

Luke, who was sitting in the desk next to him gave him a high five. “Who else likes hockey here?” Ms. Ellie asked the class, a few hands raised, “Who plays hockey here?” She asked again. Only Stanley’s hand remained in the air, “Well,” Ms. Ellie said, “It seems like we’re going to have a superstar in our class!” After that, she started on their vocabulary list and an art project.

 

**X. “I know this is pretty forward but, can I have your number?” - Stanley’s Junior High Classmate**

 

Stanley was used to girls giggling in the hall when he passed. He was aware that he was good looking but it was kind of awkward when girls stared at him. Luke said that he was jealous Stan got all the pretty ones to like him. He was in junior high and hockey was pretty much the focus of his life. He was doing well in his school work and he knew that there were hockey scouts watching his teams games. If they won and he scored at least two goals in the next game, he could get an offer. But having girls hang around him wasn’t too bad either.

 

He had a crush on a girl named Maxine earlier that year but Maxine wasn’t interested in a boyfriend. Luke told him to cheer up because he knew Lindsey had a crush on him and told Stanley when Lindsey wasn’t around. Luke also told him that one of the reasons why girls were so interested in him was because he could speak French. He was lucky he was still really fluent and that was probably because at home, they still all spoke in French and he would help Connor out with his English every now and then.

 

All the girls swoon every time he asks, “Ça va?” At one point, Luke had started hounding him about French lessons. He was terrible at it, but as his best friend, Stanley kept on trying to teach him. “Avec ta blonde?” Luke asks in terribly accented French, Stanley hides his cringe by shrugging, “You know I don’t have one.” “Well, Jenna, as in Jenna who used to date Matt said that you were cute.” His best friend teases, then adds in a more serious note, “You’re not gay are you?” Stanley raised his eyebrow but shook his head, “No, but would you really care if I was?” Luke actually burst out laughing, “No! But I’d tell you all the guys who are interested in you instead!” If it was possible, Stanley’s eyebrow climbed higher, “You know, I’ve never asked you but how the hell do you know all this stuff, chum?” Luke shrugged and wiggled his fingers, “I have my sources, bruv.” Stanley punched his friend’s shoulder lightly, “Stop trying to make ‘bruv’ happen. It’s not going to happen.Seriously though, how?” “You say that now my friend,” Luke grinned, “Well, they usually ask me to ask you stuff or ask about you.” Stanley pinched his face, “Why don’t they just ask me themselves?”

 

“Girls are weird, bruv. Girls are weird.” “Stop with the ‘bruv’!”

 

It was dismissal and he was waiting for Luke when it happened, the new transferee guy from Ontario walked up to him and asked,

“I know this is pretty forward but, can I have your number?” Stanley smiled and gave it to him.

 

Later when he told Luke what happened did he realise what exactly just happened. Luke could not stop laughing. “Told you if you weren’t going to go after a girl, a guy would hit on you!”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone can help out with the French I would be so so so grateful!


	4. Mishi

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still unbeta'd

**XI. “What was the hardest thing about training?” - SKATING Magazine: Ice Princesses**

Mishi was eight when Connor moved out to join Stanley in Shattuck St. Mary’s. She remembers crying a lot when her brother left. He taught her how to skate in the first place, just like how Stanley had taught him. He was also the first one she told when she decided to go for figure skating instead of hockey.

 

But that was years ago, now she’s competing in the Prudential US Figure Skating Championships, Ladies Figure Skating. She’s a nervous ball of energy and her brothers are miles away.

 

Breathe in, breathe out. Double toe loop, double salchow, glide, and spiral, spiral, spiral, do that dancing thing coach did, and glide, glide, glide, triple axel, land (oh God please land), and ballet jump, and pose!

 

The landing of the triple axel was a bit shaky but that’s what the little arm movements and toe pick dance thing was supposed to cover up. Mishi takes a deep breathe as the crowd jumps to their feet. She feels like crying; all of that training, hours of missing her family, school drama, the gossip and the rumours were over. She’d skated her heart out and okay, she feels like she could do better but it’s over, thank God it was over. She skates out to the edge of the rink to get to her coach who is all smiles.

 

Mishi’s alone in the cool down rink when she starts crying. For the first time since she was six, she stumbles in her glides and folds into herself. Her sobs shake her slight frame, tears spilling from her blue doe eyes. They’re not sad tears; it feels more like catharsis. Releasing all that built up stress. Once she’s done, she wipes her tears off with the back of her hand and smears her make up.

 

She walks back to her locker and gasps. Her two brothers opened their arms as she ran to them; they still smelled like ice and sweat and were in their game day suits. The siblings hold each other tightly while Mishi starts crying again.

  
“I thought you guys weren’t going to make it!” Mishi yelled holding her brothers close and trying to poke Stanley with her finger at the same time. Her brothers squirmed but didn’t break their hold, “Well, we rushed through the interviews and I’m pretty sure Connor pushed someone out of the shower.” Connor gaped at his brother and yelled, “I did not! Okay, maybe I nudged Nuker a little bit.”

 

“Wait, isn’t Nuker the cute guy from Toronto?” Mishi asked, “You know, the one with the green eyes and the brown hair? With the wavy curly thing?”

Stanley glared at his sister, “A boy? A hockey player? Really?”

Connor raised an eyebrow, “Nuker? Nah, Kipper is cuter but I see the appeal in Nuker.” When both of his siblings looked at him in disbelief, “What! I can be objective,” he defended.

 

“Wait a minute, does that mean-” Stan got cut off by the PA announcement.

 

“All skaters, please proceed to rinkside for the announcement of scores and awarding.” Mishi’s eyes widened and extricated herself from the sibling hug. “Well, this is it,” she says, taking in a huge breath, “Wish me luck!”

 

“Good luck sis!” The boys yell in unison before heading out into the stands.

 

“...for gold, with a difference of 0.2 points, from Chicago, Michelle Toews!”

 

**XII. “What’s your favourite move?” - SKATING Magazine: Ice Princesses**

“Hello everyone, I’ve got the exclusive interview with gold winner, Michelle Toews. Hi Mishi, how are feeling?” Clara Duncan from the magazine asked in the PR lounge.

 

Mishi cleared her throat, “I honestly don’t know right now. It’s like - well, I don’t know. A lot of feelings. One thing for sure, I’m glad my family’s here with me.”

 

Clara nodded, “Those were some beautiful moves in your Free Skate and a lot of jumps towards the end. What is your favourite move?”

 

“Hm, that’s kind of tricky. Well, when I was younger, my parents would take my brothers and I to the rink and we’d skate as a family. My brothers were still pretty skinny then and I was in love with figure skating. So there was this one time they learned how to do a spiral and taught me how to do it. I think I was 5 at that time.” Mishi said as she smoothed some stray strands into her bun.

 

“The best part was that they were in their hockey jerseys so you see these serious looking hockey players doing spirals along the edge of the rink. All so a little girl has a few laughs so aside from the Axel which took forever to get right, I think it would be the spiral.”

 

**XIII. “What’s the best part of skating?” - SKATING Magazine correspondent, Prudential US Figure Skating Championships**

  
The medal around her neck felt as light as air when she walked towards the PR room. The costume was getting itchy, she wanted to get her make up off, and remove the bun that she swore was 90% pin and 10% hair. Mishi didn't feel any of that when she entered the PR room and a dozen little figure skaters started crowding around her. They gave a little cheer when she entered before being shushed by their eager parents. Mishi's glad that she's out of her skates but her body aches like she went into triple overtime. 

 

She took a seat and the rest of the crowd settled down. "Hello everyone! I'm a little nervous so I hope you can bear with me! Thank you for supporting me through this competition and taking time out to watch." She said into the microphone while reaching for the bottle of water. 

 

"Hi! SKATING Magazine here, what's the best part of skating?" One of the media reporters asked. Mishi chewed her lip a little, "Well, I think one of the best things is the feeling of absolute freedom when I skate. It's as if I could let go of all my problems and skate them off. One of my favourite things to do is a spiral because it feels like I'm flying and it's the best. Well, another thing is all the fans, they're great. They inspire me to do better, especially all the young skaters. It's a bit overwhelming to have so many little girls and boys look to you but knowing they look up to you gives a great motivation. I used to be so afraid of performing in front of people but when I see the smiles on people's faces, I know I can do it." 

The stenographers took down her quote quickly before another reporter asked, "What's the best thing about the fans?" 

"They're great! Especially during the charity skates and I get to skate with the kids, they're so enthusiastic about figure skating and they inspire me to do better myself. It's like their enthusiasm bleeds over and it's really cool." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I've been in school and finals just ended so summer just started D: Hang tight there's more coming!

**Author's Note:**

> If you have any questions, leave them in the comments and I'll try to answer them (in the fic) as soon as I can!


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